What You Needn't Know
by SomecallmeMichelle
Summary: Perhaps one might accuse Wallace of being too self centered - perhaps they might say his battling skills are only matched by his ego - unfairly so, of course. But when it does come to it, Wallace does care about those who seek his help. (Or Wallace comforts Flannery who's having trust issues).


"Now, dear, what is the problem.", Wallace didn't usually divulge such a fact but, besides a rather charming and dashing prince, that hogged the spotlight of every contest hall in Hoenn he was also a rather dedicated and close friend to those in need. How many times had Steven cried in his shoulder? How many worries, shameful confessions and half mumbled feelings had been uttered in his presence? Wallace had lost count, perhaps - in the wrinkled clothes, the tugged at strings, he could find out. - Only others would be so careless with his clothes, so free spirited.

But Wallace didn't fault them for it, for Wallace knew everyone to act in different manners. And he was a special case in every fashion. He had seen enough trainers stinking up his gym - not even putting up a fresh shirt and taking a shower before challenging him - and he always battled them. Perhaps in a more ferocious manner, after all, fresh breath, fresh mind, but he liked to think he afforded them the same opportunity as one would get were they to meet him in suit and cravat. As one particular stylish champion had once done. Now there was a man who had looked his best, before and after the battle. The dashing accessory just loosely hung around the neck.

But one thing he had commented often was that Yoni belonged to the young. With the sole exception of a sharp witted and electringly fasting pun cracker - seriously even his name was a pun - the league was filled with young capable trainers. Part of it was the effort by his friend Steven to reinvigorate a decrepit league, much as he had respect to the old masters - and Master Juan would kill him if he heard the "old" descriptor put to his name.

"It's too much!", Flannery said, practically screeching into the ear of the calm and collected Sootopolis Gym Leader, who knew better than to interrupt her. He had had similar freakouts, much as he hated to admit it. When his waist grew, when he couldn't find the matching laces, many of them were fashion related. Of course he had never doubted his battle skills, but then he was good. The best water trainer in the region, some might even say. Which was doubly impressive when one considered not only the abundance of water Pokemon in the region, but who he had trained out under. Master Juan had been legendary in his own right.

Wallace looked at his perfectly manicured nails, counting the seconds. One, two. Flannery might be a mess but even she couldn't scream forever. Wallace passed a hand through the scales of his water snake, Victoria, who sat contentedly half wrapped around the futon. Wallace bit his lips - not cracked or ragged by the the hot Hoenn weather despite the breeze, with some perfectly white teeth, as he awaited.

He had time to fix a crease in his pants - something which just wouldn't do, he liked to look his best even when he wasn't awaiting guests, before Flannery calmed down to be asked the one question in his mind. To Wallace feeling a lack of confidence in one's skill was a totally alien concept. He liked to think he had some quite well earned and well placed self confidence. Even if some might call him out on his bloated ego. None had earned the right, except perhaps Steven who jokingly told him to turn it down a notch. At least he assumed it to be a joke.

But this wasn't the first time someone had come to him with the problem. From Steven - who had won it all and wasn't sure if he was worthy of it, to random young ladies who lost to him and thought to quit the contest scene - as if anyone could compare to his sharply timed sense of grandeur, his poisee in the stage… - and to which he assured them they had done well - very well considering the circumstances. Someone had to take second.

"Why?", Wallace prided himself in the manner which he talked with those in distress. Clear cut, his voice could cut through any confusion, any distress and bring sense to the folks who needed the help. Despite how it took away from his routine, his free time, his personal grooming sessions, Wallace was aware that he was good at it. Which was perhaps why Steven was so insistent he deal with them. Surely that was the reason - Not just to get him to develop people skills, or because he couldn't be bothered to deal with them himself, right?

Wallace pushed the thought aside as soon as he had it. He had been friends with Steven Stone for years, seen him grown from a scraggly kid with no fashion sense and a ruined jacket in Lilycove, harboring a flu, to someone who could rival him in terms of style. Rival him, but not quite arrive at his level. He wasn't quite there yet. Though Wallace oh so graciously provided his service to help.

"What do you mean why? I just can't!", Wallace tutted and shook his head, his locks flowing despite the lack of wing. They had gotten to be pretty long. And without extensions! No matter what some yellow journalists would say. No just natural Sootopolis length and the help of his talented niece, Lisia. She was good with hair now that she had dropped that short haircut. Thank _goodness_.

"You're not being logical. You know Steven picked you, that man doesn't do things in half measures, why would he pick you if you weren't capable?", it wasn't exactly true that Steven didn't do things in half measures. The man had an almost child like excitement when he sneaked out of the League and into the city of Sootopolis, in a clear cut attempt to spend time with Wallace. Sometimes he sneaked in the back of a crowd to congratulate him after a contest, his well dressed self not standing out. But Wallace couldn't help it, he had that effect on most people, it was just how charming he was, they wanted to spend more time around him.

And, he had to admit, he wanted to spend time with Steven. It was such a peculiar feeling. Like a berry blossoming in front of his eyes. For him, and him alone, ready to be plucked. A growing friendship had developed between them. Wallace was sure that Steven admired him _how could he not?_ But something eerily strange had happened when it came to the topic of Steven Stone, rock aficionado.

He had begun, ever so slowly, to respect him. He respected him in a couple different ways, as a trainer for what he had accomplished, which hadn't been few, as a man for impeccable sense of style, something most men seem ill conceived to have. As a carer, for the way he placed more importance to the feelings of his Pokemon than his own well being - something to which Wallace could relate, Victoria being his most prized posession. - But mostly, he respected him as a friend. Steven was not afraid to tell him when he was being dumb, or influenced by his world view. Which Wallace would like to say was always right, but not really, just usually. Steven was his confidant for when he thought to have acted in bad faith, or in a wrongful manner. He heard, without judgements, unless Wallace asked him too. And he was always honest. Steven always made time to listen to his (rather short), list of concerns, even when he could do nothing to help.

Yes, Wallace respected Steven, quite a great deal in fact. Enough to, at his request, try to help out Flannery. And he would sing his praises, as a friend sings to another, as brothers, for their relationship was that of family. But he had to help flannery.

Some things she wouldn't need to know.

"A-Are you sure he just didn't pick me because it'd be easy? I mean I am related to my grandfather, the previous gym leader"

Wallace scoffed, in a contemptuous manner, terribly rude, and not exactly himself, but the question brought forth had been a terribly dull and incohesive one. Did Flannery really have so little faith on the skills of her champion, her superior, and most of wall, Wallace's friend?

Attributing it to female hormones during puberty, _oh the stories he could tell about his niece_ , Wallace shook his head and decided to answer honestly and truthfully. This time not because Steven had asked him to, but because he felt honor bound to provide her with the truth. It was the least he could do.

"Easy?", Wallace laughed, a marvelous, crystal clear laugh, that in his opinion, was a joy to be heard. Really Flannery was lucky to have such a sharp sense of humor - or at least to be mistaken so wildly. "Steven Stone doesn't take things lightly or easily…."

It was true, Wallace reckoned. Steven's had been a long road, the long road from small trainer to Hoenn League champion had started with kidnapping and ended up with dragons. It clearly hadn't been the easiest thing. Though there were spots where hope shined, and where the light was seen, mainly when he, himself, Wallace showed up.

Wallace had always figured himself a good story teller, and indeed he had Flannery on the edge of her seat - or at least he imagined her to be seated, hanging by for his every word. She had definitely gone quiet. Perhaps it was the timbre of his voice, or the clarity with which he could paint a scene.

"Huh", was all that Flannery said after a story that Wallace had decided to share. There was much people didn't know about Steven's journey. But those tales were not his to share, not in their entirely.

"Feeling better?", Wallace couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, perfectly formed and shaped, though Flannery couldn't see it. There was a pause, during which Wallace imagined half a dozen minds being blown, like he heard they did in Sinnoh, and then at last she spoke.

"I...guess?", but Wallace was not convinced, he might, as Steven put it sometimes, have a big head, but he was not blind to the feelings of people, especially female and young. He had pratically raised his niece into a copy of him, he knew when they were troubled.

"You don't seem sure, forgive me the faus pax, but perhaps I would convince you otherwise? In Lavaridge town, over some hot cookies? Terribly bad for the waist, but for a friend in need…"

"Huh"

"Lavaridge Town, you're inviting me, I shall delight you with tales, and make your worries run away."

"Oh, hum, sure",

Wallace smiled. Despite everything he had a weak spot for Flannery. She reminded him so much of another girl trainer who had been braced with such power, and such responsibility. Who had to make the choice, trainer, or coordinator? Wallace had already proved that both could be done, and he was much better than a Jack of all trades, excelling at both, but the question did come up.

Wallace hadn't met the shy little meek girl hiding behind the legs of her grandfather. But he had heard tales of the fiery battle spirit grown into her. When Steven had asked him for an opinion, he had personally recommended her. Not because she was a particularly strong trainer - she couldn't compare to him, few could - despite the pleas of her grandfather, for the position to be given to her. But for her fierce determination and fiery eyes. Wallace wasn't as shallow as to judge a female gym leader based on her looks. But something in those eyes had attracted him to her. It reminded him of the way Steven's ice blue eyes would harden when a fight got serious, how he would be willing to fight until the last Pokemon, only to then drop it if it became clear his Pokemon were in danger, the eyes returning to their soft state.

And if the eyes were anything to go by, Flannery would make a great Gym Leader, just as Steven made the best champion.

But again, that, he wouldn't discuss with her. Though he cared for her - partly - some things were best not discussed. Some things she didn't have to know.

 **The END**


End file.
